Somebody on This Bus Is Going to Be Famous Read Online Free PDF Page B

waiting.
    â€œIt’s some kind of noose, I think,” Jay says. Self-consciously, he adjusts his glasses. It’s his first day to wear them, and he keeps glancing around to see if anybody notices. Shelly thinks he looks dignified and serious, like the president of the United States in a movie.
    â€œNo, she means gag,” says Bender. “She needs a gag.”
    â€œShut up, Bender,” Shelly snaps.
    â€œA ‘gig,’” explains Spencer, doing his learned-professor imitation, “is a term used by musicians of the popular sort, meaning an engagement, or in the vernacular, a ‘job.’” His dad is a musician—Shelly’s guitar teacher, in fact.
    â€œEverybody move along,” says Mrs. B. “Find a seat.”
    Shelly and Miranda find one together, parking the gym bag on the seat in front of them.
    â€œHey, Jay,” Igor calls from the back. “Look.”
    Everybody looks where Igor is pointing out the near window. Jay’s grandfather is standing in front of the gazebo, Panzer’s leash looped through his arm while the dog noses in the grass. The old man is holding a sign: IF YOU CAN READ THIS YOUR A GREAT RUNNING BACK. KNOCK ’EM DEAD JAY PASTERNAK III, MVP .
    â€œOh,” sighs Miranda after a moment. “That’s really sweet.”
    Shelly nods, meanwhile wondering if Mr. Pasternak usually wears his house slippers to walk the dog. Jay bites his upper lip and releases the catch on the nearest window. Forcing it down, he sticks out his fist with the thumb up.
    â€œOkay,” says Mrs. B in a tone unusually gruff. “Let’s get this show on the road.”
    Speaking of show… Shelly shares a glance with Miranda, knowing they both see Mr. Pasternak’s sign as a good omen: Knock ’em dead! (Though not too dead, since it’s a nursing home.)
    â€œHey, I just thought,” she says as the bus rolls toward the highway. “You can do my intro.”
    â€œYou mean, ‘Here’s Shelly’? I think the activity director’s going to do that.”
    â€œNo, I mean you could do some kind of opening act. Like all the pros have a warm-up band to get the crowd pumped. You could sing ‘The Star-Spangled Banner’ or something.”
    Miranda actually turns pale. “Or I could throw up or something. I hate to get in front of a bunch of people.”
    â€œOkay, okay.” Shelly is feeling a little nervous herself. This is the first show she’s ever done all on her own, and she’s thinking it might be nice to have someone to share the glory. Or blame. But she should have thought of it before now.
    â€œShelly?” Miranda asks. “Are you scared?”
    â€œScared? No—it’s just a show. I’ve done lots of ’em.”
    â€¢ • •
    But not quite like this. For one thing, they don’t have the time or equipment to set up her Mylar curtain properly or her box lights at all. Charlotte, the activity director, doesn’t seem to understand why she needs a Mylar curtain, so Shelly tries to explain: “It’s one of my signatures. Every performer has a signature, to kind of say who they are and get the show off to a good start. I have to burst through the curtain and get the audience all jazzed.”
    â€œHoney, it’ll take a lot more than a long silver fringe to get this audience jazzed,” Charlotte says. But she finds a roll of duct tape and a couple of brooms so the girls can prop up Shelly’s signature between two folding chairs. Meanwhile, Charlotte and a volunteer put away the bingo cards and rearrange the residents.
    What Charlotte will not do is give a proper intro. Instead of Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome…SHELL! , Charlotte merely says, “Shelly Alvarez was very sweet to come over today and sing a few songs for us. Let’s give her a warm Sunset Hills welcome.”
    And how, thinks Shelly, was anybody going to get